Hello, hello! Happy New Year everyone! (I know, 18 days late. But hey, it's still January! You know how they say that January is the Monday of the year.) And happy whatever it is going on. I'm sorry, but I can't help the word WHATEVER. I think, that word and I, we're a couple.
Ah. Getting back to my topic of the week. Sacrifice for Love, Let's Not. *Yoda Mode* As you may have known, you know everything after all, there are so many kinds of love. Love for family, love for money, love for work, love for whatever there is outside there. No, I'm not talking about those love. You, who know everything, know that the love that I'm talking about is the love between a man and a woman. Well, if you're sexually attracted to the same sex, yeah, you're included.
Aww, sweet. But no, no cats will be mentioned in this.
Yes, you love your partner. Yes, you would, YOU COULD, do anything for them. But does that worth it? Imagine this; You devoted yourselves to them, you done things unimaginable for them, and suddenly one day, they woke up saying you're not the one *surprise, surprise*, and simply walk away. Where will you be then? At the edge of a bridge? Maybe. On the rooftop of a 13-storey building looking down? Possibly. (Or tons of other ways to kill yourself. I'm not imaginative in that topic. Suicidal doesn't work for me. I love being alive.) On your bed, with swollen eyes and puffed nose? Definitely! Oh, don't mistake me. I do believe in love. I AM in love (for so many years, though with whom can't be disclosed here. *cough cough*). But to give my everything to someone seems like an idiotic act to me. Offended? I don't care.
*sigh* I hate talking seriously but this is something I've been thinking for quite some times. Why on earth would you sacrifice everything for only one person? And then go around, mopping the floor with your jaw, with buckets of tears, when they left you. AGAIN, that's idiot, stupid, and whatever other synonyms those words have. They don't want you? Fine! Their lost! Move on! Crying over spilt milk won't bring you miracle. (Do you believe in miracle, dear readers? I do, sometimes. I can't help it. *shrug*) I love you and everything, but don't expect me to help nurse your broken heart. You won't follow my advice, why should I console you then?
Maybe I am the one with a black, hard pebble for a heart. (Oh, oh, it rhymes! Almost.) Maybe it runs in the family. Maybe, just maybe. My Mum is forever telling me to not give my everything to someone, lest the thing I talked about above happens to me. And for me, that's a brilliant advice! Unless it's one of the Bridgerton brothers (please refer to Ms. Julia Quinn for that!), or one of the mighty Lairds of the Highlands, I won't give my everything. Maybe a bit more than half, or if he's good enough, three-quarter from my everything. So that I'll still have something of my everything with me, for myself.
Our Gerry looks yummy in a kilt, doesn't he?
At the end of it all, I sound bitter. If you, my one particular friend, happened to read this and feel hurt, think back. Depressing over love is so overrated. That's all. I'll be back. Nananananana...Batman! I love Batman. He's my favourite superhero after all.
